I missed my deadline. The deadline set for this very piece you are reading—I missed it. I don’t have much of an explanation except that, lately, life has kind of been like a hail storm in August.
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All articles filed in Hope
In Between The Milestones
It’s not often that as a year begins, I can already name the major milestones the coming months will hold. This spring, I will be moving so my landlords can sell their property. Not too long after that, I’ll transition from course work in my graduate degree to writing my graduate thesis. My boyfriend and…
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Anam Cara
“Never let the fire in your heart go out. Keep it alive.” Romans 12:11 The entrance into the new year has surprisingly been held in the embrace of anam ċara. “Anam ċara means soul friend,” John O’Donohue writes. “The anam ċara was a person to whom you could reveal the hidden intimacies of your life.…
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The Olive Branch
The last few nights I have been sleep deprived. I squirm under my cozy covers in an attempt to relax, but my chest feels tight, as if my breath is constricted. My body is weary. I attempt to ease my mind, as anxiety-filled scenarios swirl around my head like an annoying replay. After a long…
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Eight Stockings
My prayer candle, lit weeks ago at the start of advent, flickers in the darkness of the early morning. My breathing is slow and steady and my favorite blanket feels particularly soft and warm tucked around me. Today I am choosing to push the check list and tasks to the side and let myself just…
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Weary and Thrilled
The angels broke into the atmosphere, announcing good news that seemed too late. But, they broke in anyway….
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Empty Spaces
I whispered, “I am not my burnout,” a phrase I held underneath my breath just silent enough so no one else could hear. These words erupted as Jen Hatmaker was giving a stellar keynote at the recent Brave On conference. While I do not recall Jen’s exact words, I sharply remember her speech triggered a new…
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A Wealth of Years
“Don’t trust anyone over 30.”–Jack Weinberg, 1964 “I hope I die before I get old.”–The Who, 1965 It was my generation, I suppose, that began this trend—the glorification of youth, the disdain of old age. Our fathers risked their lives in World War II, but we had no time for their stories, for their work…
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A Voice Stolen
Dear Younger Self, I’m sitting in my living room with a deeply affectionate boy in my arms and another sweet boy growing safe inside my body. I can’t help but be curious about who you were so long ago. Were you anything like this stubborn, imaginative two-year old who is now leaping off the couch…
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Wilderness Moms Club
It’s been one month since he left. I stood in the airport taking in every detail of him that I would miss for the next seven months. We walked hand-in-hand from the check-in gate to security, marveling that once again we would be saying goodbye. Although we spent the year leading up to our wedding…
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